


The Other Shore

by author203



Series: Every Anime Has A Beach Episode [4]
Category: Lupin III
Genre: Character Death, Emotional Constipation, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Violence, but we don't talk about them, jigen is my favorite, love in the background, we have feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:35:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27252775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/author203/pseuds/author203
Summary: Obligatory Beach Episode from different perspectives.
Relationships: Jigen Daisuke/Arsène Lupin III, Jigen Daisuke/Original Female Character(s), Jigen Daisuke/You
Series: Every Anime Has A Beach Episode [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1961443
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	The Other Shore

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically Obligatory Beach Episode (OBE) from different perspectives. Not to tell you what to do, but you'll have more fun if you read that first. It will give you some context.  
> Probably some minor continuity errors, but just roll with them.  
> Also, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, and it got dark - at least way darker than I expected when I started writing.  
> Enjoy!

**The Other Shore**

There was an almost inaudible click that signaled the silent alarm being triggered. “What did you do?” Jigen hissed.

“Me? I told you not to touch anything.”

“You aren't leaving this at my doorstep.”

After a moment, they could hear sirens, distant but growing closer.

Lupin frowned. “Response times are getting better.”

“You keep giving them practice.”

“Pops'll be with them.”

Jigen tilted his hat up slightly to look his partner full in the face. “And just why is that, exactly?”

Lupin scoffed. “Well, I invited him. Obviously.”

“You've got to quit doing that. This was supposed to be an easy job.”

“Keeps it interesting.”

The sirens were outside now, and they could hear Pops, right on cue, bellowing through a bull horn that they were surrounded, to surrender. The same old song and dance.

“What do you want to do, boss?” Jigen asked. Lupin liked it when Jigen called him boss. The first time it had felt awkward – he always considered them equals - but then he had started calling him Jigen-chan, and it just worked.

“Split up, I guess.”

“Fine by me.”

Lupin tossed a key ring in Jigen's direction. “Take the Fiat, but keep it clean.”

“Uh-huh,” Jigen rolled his eyes.

“The smell gets in the seats Jigen.”

“Fine. Where you headed?”

“Haven't been to Canada in a while. I'll go there.”

“Well then, I guess I'll head south.”

“Stay out of trouble.”

Jigen laughed. “Take your own advice once in a while, why don't you?”

They slipped out the way they had come – left Pops yelling at an empty building.

“Drop me at the next corner,” Lupin said. They were a few blocks away by now, but time was short. Pops would be on their tail any minute.

“How long?” Lupin knew what Jigen meant. How long to lay low? How long before they could get back to work? Maybe even, how long would he be on his own?

“Not sure. Until things cool down. I'll let you know.”

“Be careful, boss.”

“Do the same, Jigen-chan.”

“Get out.”

Lupin bounded out of the car, grabbed a small bag from the back seat. He was always prepared. Always had his change of clothes and disguises handy. Lupin knew Jigen hadn't brought anything with him. It was only supposed to be a couple hours work and then back to the hideout. All he had was the suit he was wearing. Too late now; Lupin knew he would never go back to the safe house with every cop in the city on the lookout for a little yellow car driven by the world's greatest thief or the world's number one marksman. He was sure Jigen would manage somehow. He always did.

Lupin wasn't worried about him, and didn't even look back as he headed for the subway.

Lupin sent a message some time later, and waited impatiently for his crew to heed his call.

He was back in Rome, and wanted to spend some time with Rebecca, since Fujiko still wasn't around. But she had been distracted with a new fashion line she was launching and barely made any time for him.

Goemon appeared only a few days after Lupin called.

Fujiko was busy, but would be there as soon as she could get away from her current entanglements. Rich, handsome entanglements. “Spare me the details,” he had said.

Jigen, however, could not be reached. Lupin wasn't concerned the first few days. But after, it kept going to voicemail. The coded text messages went unanswered.

He wanted to do something about it, but he wasn't sure what. Jigen could be anywhere in the world by now. Just because they had parted ways in the States, didn't mean he was still there by any means.

What if he had gone to South America to meet up with some of his old militia buddies? What if he had gotten caught up in another revolution? What if he didn't answer because he couldn't answer? What if Pops, unable to collar Lupin, had instead caught up with Jigen? Or what if he had run afoul of some of the mafia characters from his past and never even made it out of New York?

He could be dead somewhere and they'd never know it. Lupin tried to keep calm, but each day that passed stretched his tight nerves just a little thinner.

Fujiko came, finally, and was completely unconcerned. Goemon – well he might have been curious as to Jigen's whereabouts, but he didn't mention it. Goemon rarely mentioned anything. Just kept it all in to meditate on later. Lupin thought meditate was code for brood.

Early one morning, after another restless night, Lupin wandered into the kitchen of the apartment that served as their current hideout. He wanted to make coffee, but the pot was full. Still half asleep, he didn't think anything of that as he poured himself a cup and moved into the living room.

“Morning, boss.”

Lupin was quite surprised to see him there, sitting in his usual place with a newspaper – in one piece – acting like nothing had happened, no time had passed, and he had not in fact been MIA for several weeks.

“Where were you?”

“At the beach, believe it or not.”

“Which one?”

“They're all pretty much the same.”

“Oh. Well... You had fun?” Something had happened. Something must have happened for him to not have answered for so long.

“Yeah. Actually.” Jigen smirked a little. “I did have fun.”

“I was -” Lupin cleared his throat. “Goemon was worried. When you didn't answer.”

“Battery died.”

So that was it. Something had definitely happened, and Jigen, being Jigen, would not be discussing it. Lupin wondered what it was, but knew not to push it. Jigen would talk about it when and if he was ever ready, and most likely not when he was sober.

“Well, welcome back.”

“Thanks.” He tossed the keys back to Lupin, who caught them one handed. “Car's in the garage. Do you know how hard it is to get that thing across the ocean?”

“You kept it clean this time?”

“Clean enough.”

“Jigen!”

The gunman laughed.

~*~

Around the same time the following year, Jigen said he was going back to the States, had something to take care of. Lupin, always up for a road trip, offered to tag along, but Jigen was rather insistent about handling whatever it was on his own. He had even snapped at Goemon on his way out, and slammed the door behind him.

“What do you think all that was about?” the thief asked the samurai.

“No idea – but definitely something.”

“Could be something dangerous.”

“Perhaps we should -”

Lupin considered it. It was a double-edged sword. If they didn't follow him and he got in over his head they wouldn't know, couldn't help. If they did follow him, and it was nothing, and he found out, he'd be pissed.

He'd say things like they didn't trust him or he was grown and didn't need looking after. That he had survived plenty of years without knowing either of them and he would be just fine if and when they ever parted company. Lupin did not want another conversation like that anytime soon.

“No,” he said finally, frowning. “Jigen can take care of himself. If he needed our help, he would have asked for it.”

“Right,” Goemon said, doubtful. Jigen was not one to ask for help. They were quiet for a time, just looking at the closed door their partner had left through a few moments before. “But still...”

“Yeah, I know.”

~*~

Inspector Zenigata had just exited a long flight and walked tiredly toward baggage claim.

Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw a familiar fedora through the crowd.

The inspector perked up a bit. He hadn't come to Seattle for Lupin, but if Jigen was here, then for sure his rival was near by.

This was the third time Jigen had left his partners to travel to a Carolina beach alone. But Zenigata had no way of knowing that. All he knew was that if Fujiko or Goemon or Jigen were around, Lupin was likely to be too.

The inspector walked a little faster, trying to get a better look. Where? There. No, there! Why so many fedoras? Why was every other man wearing a suit and tie and hat just like Jigen's?

Zenigata caught up to the one he had first spotted, grabbed the man's arm, but it wasn't Jigen. He didn't even have a beard.

“That's a nice hat, old man,” the stranger said. “But it's the wrong color.”

“What do you mean?”

“If you're going to enter the contest, you should at least wear the right color hat.”

“What are you talking about?” Zenigata's eyes searched the crowd milling about the airport terminal. He had never seen so many fedoras in one place. It was almost like one of those migrations he had seen on nature shows, where there were so many of one species in the same place you couldn't tell any of them apart.

“I don't know about you, but I'm here for the lounge singers convention. And I plan to win the Sinatra look-alike contest.”

Zenigata didn't know such a thing existed, but was a bit relieved. It must not have been Jigen he had seen after all. Of course not. He wasn't the only one in the world with that type of hat. And there was probably nothing in this city Lupin would deem worth stealing.

“Well good luck to you.”

“Not luck, old man. Skill.”

Zenigata laughed, and turned back toward baggage claim.

Jigen seethed, watching from the shadow of an escalator, knowing he had missed his flight thanks to Pops. Knowing she would be waiting, and he wouldn't be there on time.

~*~

“Fujiko-chan!” Lupin purred in a sing-song cadence.

“Lupin,” she answered, sounding uninterested.

He was in an easy chair, and she was sprawled across his lap. They were alone. For now.

“I have something for you,” he said as he pulled a jewel – precious and sparkling and freshly stolen from his jacket pocket.

Her eyes widened just a bit. “It's beautiful,” she gasped. She moved to take it, but he held it out of her reach.

“First,” he said holding up a finger. “First, I need you to do something for me.” His eyes went where they always went when Fujiko was in his line of vision.

She noticed and stood up. “In that case, just keep it.”

He jumped up after her, grabbed her wrist lightly. “No, no, not that. But we can if you want to.” He went to caress the bulge in her blouse, but she smacked his hands away.

“If not that, then what?” Lupin rarely asked Fujiko for anything. Except that one thing. He begged for that nonstop.

“I need a favor. It's easy, and if you pull it off, you'll get this.” He palmed the jewel, did some slight of hand, pulled it from her cleavage, held in front of her face.

She slapped him, and the jewel flew out of his hand, and she caught it in midair.

Lupin rubbed his cheek. “You can keep it. I just need one simple thing.”

Fujiko examined her prize. It was stunning and would fetch a good price. But at what cost? Her eyes narrowed in her shrewd face as she turned back toward Lupin. “What exactly do you want?”

“It's Jigen.”

“What about him?”

“He's been acting weird.”

“Weird how?”

“He's too quiet.”

She laughed. “Right, Lupin. Jigen is world-renowned for his sparkling conversation.”

“He gets agitated and then disappears for a while this time of year.”

“So Jigen is grumpy and goes on a bender and this is some sort of unsolvable mystery to you? Isn't he always like that?”

Lupin shook his head. “No. He's different. Something is up. It's always this time of year, and he won't tell me where he's going or when he'll be back.”

“And you think he's likely to tell me?”

“No, no, I don't want you to talk to him.”

“Then what? What do you want from me exactly?”

“Just follow him. See where he goes, what he's up to, if he needs our help.”

“That's all?”

“Yeah. That's all. I'm just worried about him. He'd never tell us if he was in over his head.”

“He won't like it.”

“That's why I'm counting on you to stay out of sight.”

“Why not just follow him yourself?”

Lupin was just about to explain why he couldn't, when the door swung open. Jigen and Goemon were back; they had brought food, supplies.

Lupin questioned Fujiko with his eyes, and she gave the slightest nod. She tucked the jewel away and their deal was sealed.

“When?” she whispered, once the samurai and gunman were in the kitchen, out of earshot.

“If it's anything like before, he'll be leaving in three or four days.”

Fujiko wasn't exactly happy to be following Jigen, but she had done more for less before. And this was an easy job.

She was already in first class when he boarded the plane and headed toward the tail. Of course, he would have bought the cheapest seat.

She noted that he hadn't noticed her, and that in itself was odd. Jigen was always careful of his surroundings, checking faces in a crowd for threats or enemies, one eye on his escape route. He looked preoccupied for sure. Distracted.

He had a book with him – something that looked suspiciously like chick-lit. Something she would never expect to see him with.

Before takeoff, she looked up the title on the phone, read a bit about the author. Mousy-looking thing. Probably never been kissed. Writing about things she knew nothing about.

It was strange to see him with it, but she wasn't sure what to do with the information. None of the pieces fit together.

Yet.

The plane landed and she followed him to a connecting flight. They landed at RDU International several hours later.

After baggage claim and customs, he headed to the car rental counter. She should have just put a tracer on his hat. That would have made this so much easier, since he never took the stupid thing off.

Fujiko almost lost him in the traffic on the highway, but she found him again. He drove for hours. Where was he going? And why had she agreed to this?

He finally pulled off into some seedy looking seaside motel. She hoped this was their destination and not just another pit stop. Just like him to stay in a place like this. The man had no taste.

This was a hundred miles from nowhere. What could he be doing here of all places, at the edge of the world?

She parked across the street at some gift shop, and tried to look inconspicuous. She watched him enter the motel office, and a few minutes later take his bag to a room. She waited, watched.

She almost lost him again when he came out looking like a beach bum. She hadn't been paying attention; she had been staring at her fingernails, contemplating a new color. And she never expected to see Jigen is something other than his suit. Unless of course he was in disguise for one of Lupin's jobs.

She was lucky he was still wearing his fedora so she could track him at a distance.

He went to the pool. She couldn't see inside the fence, but he didn't stay there long. Next, he took the path down to the ocean.

This was it? This was the enigma that had Lupin so worried? He was on vacation?

Well, then, why be so secretive about it? Why not just say it? _Lupin you are too loud, I need a break_ , and then just leave, simple as that. And why come to the other side of the world, when there were beaches all over the continent they had left behind.

There had to be more to it. She'd stick around a few days, see what happened. She took an ocean front suite, went to the balcony. Dug out binoculars, scanned the shoreline.

She saw him, a little distance away, sitting on a beach blanket with – with a woman. Their heads were together, and Fujiko knew from their posture they were whispering sweet nothings. She saw him laughing. He looked happy. She wasn't sure she had ever seen him that way. He always looked angry to her. But she was always double-crossing them, so maybe he had a right to be. It wasn't personal. And it wasn't a secret. They should expect it, really. Fujiko's loyalty always went to the highest bidder and the winning team. By now, they should've been able to pinpoint exactly when she would switch teams just based on the circumstances they happened to be in at the time.

They were too far away for her to get a good look at the woman. But Fujiko sat there and watched them, trying not to compare Jigen to Lupin. Trying not to be jealous.

Jealous of Jigen? Absurd.

But Jigen didn't leer at the woman's chest. Jigen didn't try to cop a feel, or kiss her forcefully. When he did touch her – even from this distance – Fujiko could see it was with a sort of reverence. Holding her hand. Pushing hair out of her eyes, grazing her cheek with his calloused hand. And coming from a man as irreverent as Jigen – well.

And they talked. She couldn't tell what about, but whatever it was Jigen acted like it was the most fascinating thing in his entire world.

He looked relaxed.

Fujiko didn't like Jigen, didn't like to be around him. Didn't like to think about him.

And she especially didn't like the thought that maybe she was envious of him. Not him. She wasn't interested in him. But whoever that woman was, and whatever they had going on, seemed genuine. Somehow deeper than anything Fujiko had ever experienced. How she could tell that with nothing to go on and from this distance she didn't know. But she was sure of it nonetheless.

In Fujiko's experience, men were lustful, prideful, narcissistic. But those could all be used as means to an end. What was Jigen's angle? Was this some sort of long con?

Her phone rang. Of course, it was Lupin.

“Everything all right?”

Fujiko wasn't sure how to answer. “Jigen is fine.”

“What's he up to?”

“Not sure yet,” she lied. “I'll let you know when I have anything.”

“You ok, Fujiko-chan?”

“I'm fine.” She hung up. But she wasn't fine. Not really. A man like Jigen. _Really_ , she scoffed. Why should he of all people – why should he look so happy?

She knew Lupin's love for her was genuine, but genuine did not equate to deep. Or solid. Shallow, but genuine. Genuinely shallow. Their relationship was mostly physical. Fujiko wouldn't admit, even to herself, that she was afraid to let it go any deeper.

Such a paradox. Wanting connection, fearing rejection, shunning intimacy to spare oneself the pain of its removal. Trading heartbreak for loneliness and losing either way.

She shouldn't have come here. She shouldn't be thinking about these things. She should be in a casino somewhere scamming a high-roller out of his winnings. Or on a beach – not this one – with a tall drink and– And Lupin. Why did she keep thinking about him?

She should never have agreed to this.

A few nights later, Fujiko followed Jigen and the woman to a restaurant. She sat in her rental car in the parking lot, waiting, watching.

He drove, and when they parked, he got out and opened the woman's car door. _How very 1930s_ , Fujiko jeered in her mind.

Jigen offered his elbow, and the woman placed a delicate hand in the crook of his arm. She said something, and Jigen threw his head back and laughed with abandon.

It was enough to make Fujiko sick. She watched them enter the restaurant. The place had huge windows, so she could see them as they were seated. Saw them order.

The waiter poured water for Jigen, and she thought that odd until she remembered he had been driving. Of course he wouldn't drink now.

Fujiko sat there gripping the steering wheel, an anger building in her chest. An unreasonable anger she realized, but real nonetheless. Lupin had told her to stay out of sight, but Lupin wasn't here.

Fujiko had learned that best way to get rid of uncomfortable feelings was to give them to someone else. She had had enough of watching this lovey-dovey goo-goo-eyed nonsense.

She had seen them at the beach, holding hands as they walked by the water. Jigen had picked up something worthless, a seashell, and the woman had acted like it was one of the crown jewels.

Fujiko had watched them sit by the pool for hours. The woman would swim or lounge, and Jigen would read. Or they would talk. Laughing. Flirting.

Fujiko knew she had seen the woman before, and it took a while to piece together that she had seen the photo on her phone. The woman was the author of that book Jigen had had on the plane. Everything was obvious now. It all added up.

She had followed them to the lighthouse, waited while they went to the top. She had watched them kissing in the moonlit parking lot; watched Jigen as he watched the woman go to her room. Fujiko couldn't figure out why he didn't follow. Why they stayed in separate rooms.

Well, she had had enough. She opened the car door, and stalked toward the restaurant entrance.

~*~

Lupin wasn't concerned the next year when the time grew close for Jigen to leave.

Fujiko had sure made a mess of things. Apparently when he had said keep a low profile, she had heard make a huge scene in a crowded restaurant. Lupin had gotten an earful upon Jigen's return, but now that he knew it was just an infatuation and not something sinister, well, he could relax.

It was good for Jigen to take some time off. Good for him that he had found someone he connected with.

Lupin heard him sometimes, talking late into the night or in the hours before dawn because of the time difference. Talking about such common, ordinary, boring things. Lupin knew Jigen was talking to her. Sometimes he would catch the gunman writing, and when Lupin asked what about, he got told, quite bluntly, that it was none of his freaking business. They were love letters, of course. Lupin had found one. Read it by accident when looking for the car keys.

Lupin had laughed reading it. It was just so bizarre. Jigen. Who knew he could be so poetic?

It was about a week before Jigen was set to leave again. “Going out,” he said one afternoon.

Lupin and Goemon looked at him. Lupin said, “We're just about to get something to eat. Want to come along?”

“No. Not hungry. Just getting some smokes. Something to drink.”

“We can all go after we eat,” Goemon suggested. “I need a few items as well.”

Jigen had already shrugged into his suit coat, put his hat on. “Not this time.” He left them sitting there, watching the door he had closed behind him. Seemed like that happened more and more these days.

“It's not a secret any more. Why do you suppose he acts this way?” Goemon asked.

“I don't know,” Lupin said, exasperated. “Where should we eat?”

“Actually, I think I will just stay here and meditate a while.”

Lupin rolled his eyes. “Well, I'm hungry now. I'll bring back something.”

“Thank you.”

Lupin was in a much better mood with his belly full. Feeling much more generous. The Fiat rounded a corner, and he saw Jigen come out of a shop about a block away. Perfect timing.

He pulled up along side him. “Need a ride?”

Jigen hesitated only a moment before folding himself into the front seat. Lupin noticed the shop was a jeweler's.

“What were you up to?” he asked, as he merged back into traffic.

“Nothing.”

“Casing the place? What's it like inside?”

“No, no. Nothing like that.”

“It's ok, Jigen-chan. You can pick the next job if you want.”

“I wasn't there to plan a heist.”

“Then why were you there?”

“None of your concern, ok? So just drop it.”

Lupin pulled off onto a side street and parked. Patience. That was the key.

He pulled out a cigarette, lit it. Jigen sat in silence a while before doing the same. They both just sat there and smoked, neither speaking.

Lupin was the first to cave. “Why won't you tell me?” he almost whined.

“Why do you want to know? I already said it doesn't concern you.”

“If it concerns you, then it concerns me.”

Jigen grunted. He didn't want to be talking about this. Lupin should mind his own business once in a while. He almost wanted to get out of the car and walk, but he was kind of tired, and it was nice to just sit. He could sit here all day and not say another word if he wanted to.

“Jigen,” Lupin said earnestly. Then quietly, “Jigen. I just want you to be happy. That's all I want for any of us. Even if it's not here. With me. I'll understand. Goemon will too.”

“Hmm.”

“Did you buy a ring?”

Jigen smirked a little. He could never get anything past Lupin. “Yeah. I did.”

“Can I see it?”

“Fine.” Jigen pulled the velvet box from his suit coat pocket.

Lupin admired his choice, closed the box, handed it back. “This could change everything.”

“Sometimes change is good,” the gunman reasoned.

“Yeah. Sometimes.” Lupin frowned.

A short while later, Lupin was alone in the safe house. Jigen had been gone a few weeks and Lupin wondered how it was going for him.

Lupin still wasn't thrilled with the idea, but he had gotten used to it. Things would change for sure, but none of them were really sure what that change would look like. Were they losing Jigen? Or gaining a new member of the gang? Would she globe-trot with them? Take part in the heists? Or would she just wait and worry on the sidelines in a hideout or somewhere overseas where she lived now?

Lupin didn't like being on his own like this. Goemon was off somewhere training again. Fujiko was – he wasn't quite sure, but she wasn't here, which probably meant she was snuggled up with someone else, and he didn't want to think about that either.

When he was on his own he was forced to keep company with his own thoughts. And his whole lifestyle, his bursting ball-of-energy personality, his endless capers, everything about him was designed to avoid such introspection.

There was a place for quiet and sometimes he liked it. The quiet after the excitement of a narrow escape when he celebrated success with his friends. Or the quiet before, when they would plan, going over security details and timing. Even when they would all just sit in the same room, staring at the television, not speaking. That was quiet, but at least there were other heartbeats nearby.

This current solitude was not like that, and he didn't savor it.

Distraction was what he needed. Cooking. That was something. He'd make some complex dish that would take time and focus his attention on that.

He was elbow deep in kneading a bread dough when he heard the door open.

It was Jigen. Lupin could tell in one glance how it had gone, but had to ask anyway.

Jigen would have glared, if he had had the energy. But he was exhausted, from his ordeal, from the travel, from everything.

He tossed the ring box in Lupin's general direction, said, “Sell it. Throw it out. Give it to Fujiko for all I care, but I don't want to see it again.”

“Jigen?”

Jigen just shook his head. He was not going to talk about this.

“I'm making something. Want to eat?”

“Later.”

“You ok?”

The gunman sighed. “No. Not right now. But I will be. Just leave me alone a while.”

“Whatever you want, Jigen-chan.”

“Don't call me that.”

Lupin didn't say anything.

“Just not... not right now,” Jigen said softly as he went to collapse on the worn-out couch, pulled his hat over his face, and tried to sleep.

It took some time. These things do. But after a few months Jigen started to come back to himself. He would laugh at something Goemon said, banter with Lupin, even match wits with Fujiko on occasion.

Lupin was beyond relieved to see his partner acting more like the Jigen he remembered. Maybe things would settle down now; go back to the way they had always been.

~*~

The following year Lupin caught wind of a job in Sydney. It was just a little while before Jigen would have left again, but Lupin thought maybe he wouldn't be going this year, based on what had happened before, and besides, Jigen hadn't said anything about it.

So off to The Land Down Under they went.

They all had their roles to play, as usual, and everything was going smoothly, until it was time to rendezvous for the get-away.

Jigen was late. Goemon would be arriving in the next thirty-six seconds, but Jigen should already be here. Lupin was already in the driver's seat, nervously drumming the steering wheel.

No need to panic quite yet. They were still on schedule.

Lupin waited, watching, finally saw Jigen stagger out of a nearby alley.

“Jigen?” he called through the open window.

“I'm fine.”

There was blood. A lot of it. And Lupin wasn't sure whose it was. He opened the car door, stood up.

Jigen grimaced at his pain. The suit had been new, and not cheap, and now it was ruined.

“Just a scratch,” he insisted.

“Jigen, you're pale.”

“Lupin.” The gunman braced a hand against the wall of the building. “I don't feel...” He pitched forward, and Lupin rushed to catch him.

Suddenly, Goemon was there. “Help me get him in the car,” Lupin said, trying to keep his voice even. Trying not sound afraid.

Goemon couldn't stop the bleeding. There was so much blood. Everywhere. “We have to get him to a hospital,” the samurai urged.

“It's so dangerous.” They were wanted. Pops was in town. They were fresh off a job. Law enforcement was definitely looking for them.

“More dangerous if we don't.”

Lupin hesitated. He thought about it. His friend needed immediate action and he was taking time to consider the risks to himself.

“Lupin,” Goemon said, sternly. It was not a question. More of a decree.

“You're right. You're right. Let's get him there.”

They found a hospital. It had taken a while to make the drive. They had their disguises and concocted some story about a fishing accident. It was plausible enough, and the medical staff didn't ask a lot of questions. Jigen had had a run-in with the business end of a knife, and that was easier to explain than a bullet hole. There had been something on the blade, some toxin that was causing him problems. Infection, and worse.

Jigen had lost a lot of blood. Too much. Needed a lot of blood. More than they had. Lupin, fortunately, was the same type, and he gave as much as they would safely allow.

It was a tense few days. Lupin and Goemon took turns keeping watch, for Pops, over Jigen. Their nerves were stretched thin with worry, though neither said so out loud. To their surprise, even Fujiko came to see him, once she found out about it. The gunman had been unconscious the entire time.

A few days more and Lupin decided that Jigen could sleep in the hideout just as good as he could in the hospital, and with Goemon's help they snuck him out. The samurai questioned the wisdom of it, seeing as Jigen still hadn't woken up or even snored or shown any encouraging sign. But Lupin was insistent. They had been here too long already. And the doctors had said they had done all they could do. It had to run its course.

It was all up to Jigen now.

So they propped him up in his bed in the safe house and took turns looking after him and each other. Jigen did take some broth once in a while, but Lupin knew swallowing was a reflex, and not necessarily something he could view as improvement of the gunman's condition.

Lupin pulled a chair close to the bedside, watched Jigen breathe. Sometimes, he stared so long it looked like Jigen's chest had ceased moving. Lupin would hold his own breath until the gunman inhaled again, and then Lupin would release his pent up wind in a sigh.

This was all his fault, he knew. He had planned the job. He had picked who would do what. If he had let Jigen do his part, and then later drive the get-away car, then Lupin would be the one fighting for his life instead.

It was the middle of the night, and Lupin had nodded off in the chair beside Jigen's bed. The Magnum and fedora were on the nightstand in easy reach, should the gunman wake and want them.

“Need,” Jigen mumbled in a whisper.

Lupin jerked awake, looked around. He was always a light sleeper. “What?”

“Need.”

“What? What do you need? Water? Something to eat?”

Jigen's eyes were still closed. He was still asleep. Lupin wasn't sure, couldn't remember, if Jigen usually talked in his sleep, but it was the first word he had heard from him in days and he was overjoyed.

Jigen groaned. Said a name. A woman's name. A decidedly American name.

Lupin repeated it.

“Need tell.”

“Tell what?” Lupin was wide-eyed, leaning close, all ears.

“Can't.”

“Can't what, Jigen-chan?”

“Can't be there.”

So. He was dreaming about her. And he had planned to go back. Even after... Well, that was out of the question for now.

“Tell her,” Jigen gasped, then rolled over, started to snore. It was a relief to hear, something Lupin had not heard in days. Lupin knew for sure that Jigen snored sometimes, and now that he was doing so again must mean he was on the mend.

Tell her he can't be there. Lupin wasn't sure how to go about it. Or even if it was a real request, and not just some fever dream hallucination.

Lupin knew Jigen had memorized her cell and mailing address. He would not leave something like that lying around where it could fall into anyone's hands – especially Zenigata's if he happened upon the place. They had had hideouts raided before. And in his condition, there was no getting the info out of Jigen.

Finally, Lupin called Fujiko. “What was the name of that place Jigen stayed at, that year I asked you to follow him?”

He would send a letter. And if she went back, as Jigen had obviously planned to do, she would get it there. It wasn't a fool proof plan, but it was the best he could do. He hoped it was enough.

He hoped it was the right thing.

~*~

Jigen recovered, thankfully, and as time went by he never mentioned the woman or asked if Lupin had let her know he wasn't coming. Lupin thought maybe Jigen didn't even remember their conversation, which was extremely likely given he had been asleep at the time.

Lupin hoped he had done the right thing, sending the letter. He had promised Jigen would be there next time, but he wasn't entirely sure if that was true.

“Lupin?”

“In the kitchen.”

“Need a ride to the airport.”

Lupin froze, halfway to putting something in the oven. He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

Jigen nodded. He could take a cab, of course, but he didn't want to spend the money.

“When?”

“Couple of days. I can count on you, right?”

“Sure, sure.” He pushed the pan into the oven, closed the door. “Listen, are you going to see -”

“Doesn't matter where I'm going. I'm just going. And I'll be back when I get back.”

“Fine. Fine.”

“How long's that cook for?”

“Til it's done.”

A few days later, Lupin drove Jigen to the airport in the Fiat. “Tell her hello for me.”

Jigen laughed, gently, shook his head. “You think you know everything that goes on?”

“I know enough.”

“See you in a few weeks.”

“Sure. Have fun.”

“Will do, boss.”

Goemon was the only one awake when Jigen stumbled into the hideout in the wee hours of the morning. He had only been gone a couple of days. He should not have been back this soon.

“Jigen?” Jigen was always amazed how Goemon could cram a whole paragraph into a single word. What happened? Are you all right? Are you injured? Do you need assistance? What can I do?

Jigen couldn't explain what had happened. He didn't have the strength or the will. “Going to bed. Don't bother me.”

“I won't.”

“Keep Lupin out of my hair if you can manage it.”

Goemon smiled. “I can try.”

Jigen went to his room, closed the door. Goemon could see the door from where he sat on the floor by the couch, his sword propped against his shoulder. His usual stiff-necked posture.

He kept a watch on the door, but didn't see it open again for three days. Jigen had won the rock-paper-scissors for this particular hideout, so he got the master bedroom suite with its own bathroom, even though he wasn't supposed to even be here right now.

He only ever ventured out to fetch another bottle. Goemon didn't see him eat anything – there was never anything missing from the fridge – and he started to worry about it.

He thought about all the times Jigen had persuaded him to stop training long enough to eat something. “You can't run on empty. You got to eat if you want to keep fighting. Your enemy sure as hell isn't skipping any meals.” Such obvious, simple wisdom. Well, now it was time to repay the favor.

Goemon made a couple of sandwiches, quick and easy, and brought them to Jigen's room. The door wasn't locked. Not that that would have mattered. They could all pick locks as well as the others now. Jigen's bed was empty. He must be in bathroom. Goemon left the food on the nightstand, and slipped out before he was noticed.

He heard Jigen snoring a few hours later, and peaked in to check on him. The food was gone, just a few crumbs on the plate. _Good_ , Goemon thought.

He continued in this way for several more days. Cooking things he knew Jigen would enjoy eating, leaving them when the gunman was out of sight. Asking Lupin what they should do. Let it run its course? Try to pull him out of it?

“Just a couple more days. See if he can get a handle on it himself,” Lupin suggested. “Give him a few more days; then we'll light a fire under him.”

~*~

In Cairo, a year later, Jigen was by himself in the small hotel bar, one of the few places he could find a drink in this dry country. The more he tried not to think about it, the more it – she – was the only thing that would come to mind.

It was almost time again, but he had already decided against it. He wouldn't be going this year. Probably never again. If he ever saw another lighthouse it would be too soon.

Lupin found him a little while later. Lupin always found him when he just wanted a minute to himself. How did he know? _Jigen wants to be alone right now, better barge in and make things worse._ Like he could read minds or something.

“Thought I'd find you here,” the gentleman thief said.

“Where else?”

Lupin took the seat across from Jigen, and just sat there and stared at him. Jigen held his gaze, and neither of them said anything for a bit.

“I've been thinking,” Lupin started.

“About? Next job?”

“No.” Lupin watched Jigen's face. “Been thinking about how it's almost time for your trip. You ready?”

“Not going.” Jigen looked away, took a sip. Why did Lupin always have to stick his nose in everyone's business, when he couldn't even manage his own affairs? He and Fujiko were currently not speaking again, and Jigen for one was enjoying the reprieve from her grating presence.

“I think you should.”

“What business is it of yours?”

“Let me ask – how'd you leave it?”

Jigen sighed. “Poorly.”

Lupin didn't say anything. He waited.

“She was crying the last time I saw her,” Jigen admitted. The image of her on the beach, knees drawn up, arms around them, tears streaming, was enough to make him want to crawl back into the bottle for a while like he had done right after.

“It's been a year. She's probably not crying any more.”

“She's married.”

“Oh.” Lupin hadn't known that. Of course, Lupin had never been discouraged by a piece of finger jewelry. He saw that as a mere suggestion, and not an insurmountable obstacle. “You should go anyway. Just to see her. Just to say goodbye or whatever. Apologize for last time if you want.”

“I don't know. Might be better just to leave it.”

“Well,” Lupin stood. “I can't make you. But I can make it easier.” Lupin pulled an envelope from his jacket pocket, tossed it onto the table.

“What's this?” Jigen asked, making no move to pick it up.

“Plane tickets. Use them or don't. Up to you.”

Lupin left him there, staring at the envelope, thinking about her.

He sat there for another hour, drinking, arguing with himself about the uselessness of it. The necessity of it.

If he did go, Jigen could see her again. But _he_ would be there too. It would be awkward. And for sure painful.

But maybe it would be worth it.

Damn Lupin. Sticking his nose in everything all the time.

Bless him.

Jigen picked up the tickets – they were first class all the way, how nice – and tucked them into his suit coat pocket, next to his heart.

This was probably a mistake, but he figured he had made plenty of those in his life and this for sure wouldn't be his last.

Lupin saw Jigen pack a bag, watched him leave. Counted the days he was gone.

They started to add up and Lupin didn't know if that was good or bad. He wanted badly to text or call and just check in, but he was sure whatever message he sent would go unanswered. So he waited, without patience.

When Jigen finally returned he seemed at ease. Honestly, it was a relief to see it.

“You seem chipper.” It was a question.

Jigen smiled. “She's a widow now.”

Odd thing to smile about. “Sorry to hear.”

“Oh I was too. At first.”

“Does that mean you finally closed the deal?” Lupin laughed. “It only took you what? An entire decade?”

“Unlike you, who erroneously claim to be a gentleman, I actually am one. And a gentleman does not kiss and tell.”

“That means yes!”

“Shut up, Lupin.”

“I told you. I told you so. That you should go.”

“Shut up.”

Goemon came in, carrying some groceries. “Jigen, you've returned.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you ok?”

“Sure. What do you mean?”

“You're smiling. It's unusual.”

Lupin laughed at that, and couldn't stop. He covered his eyes with one hand and laughed uncontrollably until eventually the others had to laugh too.

~*~

So that was how it went for the next several years. Jigen would disappear for a few weeks each summer. He didn't talk about it. Where they went, what they did, who she was, what he saw in her. Lupin wasn't even sure if Jigen knew about the letter, or that he already knew everything.

It was inconvenient, planning jobs around his gunman's getaways, but Lupin was determined to make it work. Jigen was the most dependable, and he never asked for anything, so some time off each year was the least he could provide.

“Why does he trail after that mouse? Isn't he bored with her yet?” Fujiko discounted Jigen's relationship at every opportunity.

“He's in love,” Lupin defended him.

“Yeah, right. Sure he is.”

Some time later, Lupin heard a rumor of a treasure hidden in the Black Forest. “Pack your bags, all. We're heading to Deutschland.”

“What for?” Jigen wanted to know. He barely lifted his gaze from where he reclined on the couch.

Lupin told him.

“Hmm, no. Gonna sit this one out.”

“Plan won't work without you.”

“Tough. You'll have to come up with a better plan.”

“Jigen?” Goemon asked. They had each backed out of jobs before, all for various serious or frivolous reasons, but Jigen's tone had implied something more.

They all stared at him, waiting. Fujiko smirked, almost knowing what he was going to say.

“You don't think you can handle it?” Lupin questioned. It sounded accusatory, and that was not at all how he had meant it.

They had been partners for years. Years that rested in the shallow lines on their faces, the slight gray in his beard.

Jigen sat up, growled a little defensively, “I can handle anything. But I've been thinking. A lot lately.”

“About?” Goemon encouraged, when he didn't elaborate.

“Her, I'll bet,” Fujiko spat.

“No.”

“It is her,” Fujiko insisted.

“I haven't seen her in a year. Just leave her out of it.”

“You talked to her yesterday,” Lupin put in quietly.

“Yeah, we talk. You and Fujiko should try that sometime. It's what adults do when they enjoy each other's company.”

“This isn't about us,” Fujiko snapped. “It's about you and that mouse and you backing out of a perfectly good job with a huge payoff for no reason.”

“Ok, fine,” Jigen snapped, agitated. “Yeah. It is her I've been thinking about. But there's something else.”

Everybody waited, silent.

“I've been thinking about retiring.”

They all just stared at him, and he was thankful for his hat that covered most of his face.

No one knew what to say.

Finally, the samurai asked, “Are you serious?”

Jigen met his gaze. The gunman was tired. Tired of running. Tired of being without her. He couldn't say it, but he nodded. Yes, he was serious. He had made up his mind.

Lupin was frowning. He always knew it would come to this someday, but he had never expected it so soon.

“Well, we won't stop you.”

“We won't?” Fujiko hissed.

“No,” Lupin said, calmly. “We won't. But maybe consider, the payoff from this last job will keep you for years. You'd have enough to set up anywhere in the world.”

“Just one last job?” Goemon asked.

“For old time's sake,” Fujiko added.

The irony of that made Jigen chuckle. He and Fujiko had no old times. At least none he viewed favorably.

Jigen took a moment to ponder. The job Lupin was proposing was dangerous. But so was everything they did. Their very existence was dangerous.

But he hadn't lied about the payoff. It would keep Jigen comfortable for years. He wouldn't even need to be frugal.

Retirement sounded nice. She was definitely worth it. Fine. “One last job.”

The Fiat shuddered at the speed, and Lupin tried to keep control.

Control over the car on the wet road, control on his emotions, control of the situation.

But the situation had long since spiraled out of his control. He had made poor decisions, picked the wrong job, crossed the wrong people – people that chased them all the way to Berlin – had a run of bad luck, and Jigen had paid for it. Jigen always ended up paying for Lupin's mistakes. It was Sydney all over again, but much, much worse. This time there'd be no hospital, no bedside vigil, no recovery.

Ahead, near the bridge, he could see a mass of white that would be Goemon's robes reflecting the moonlight. He sped past, saw the sword flash in the rear view. He wasn't sure if the samurai cut the car following them or the bridge itself, but either way their pursuers weren't pursuing them anymore. He slowed the car just enough, just until he heard the solid thunk of Goemon landing on the roof, before he sped up again, heading away from the disaster, while blank eyes stared at him from the floorboard.

“We can't. Not like this!” Lupin nearly shouted, almost hysterical. “His suit. Blood everywhere. He deserves better. We have to at least clean him up first.”

Goemon put his hands on Lupin's shoulders, pushed him down until he was sitting on the couch.

Jigen's couch. Jigen's spot.

“Stay here,” the samuari said.

“Goemon, I... He...”

“Just stay here.” Goemon turned to leave, to take care of things, but turned back. “Your Walther, please.”

Lupin had taken Goemon's sword more than once when he had been beyond distraught over some dishonor, real or imagined, and Goemon did not hesitate to return the favor now. Lupin gave him the gun without a second thought.

Fujiko finally arrived, giddy from the success of the heist. Her part had gone flawlessly. She didn't know; she hadn't been with them. Seeing their faces she blurted, “Who died?” When they both just stared at her, she looked around, asked “Where's Jigen?”

Goemon's face was hard. “Stay with Lupin.” He went out to the car, where they had left him. Carefully, he lifted the gunman's body and carried it to the bathroom of the safe house. It had been long enough for the blood to stiffen and make removing the torn suit coat and dress shirt a bit difficult, but Goemon managed.

He scrubbed away the dried blood as best he could. He washed the sweat and grit from Jigen's face, cradling his head, gently, so gently, though he was beyond pain now.

When the body was as clean as he could make it, the samurai carried him to a bedroom, kicked the door closed behind him.

In the meantime, Lupin had told Fujiko what had happened. At least the part he could talk about. Jigen was dead, and it was his fault.

Fujiko let him talk, kept a hand on his shoulder. It didn't matter if what he was saying wasn't true. It was no one's fault. They all knew the risks. It was quite a wonder this hadn't happened sooner. It could have been any of them.

Goemon returned a little while later. “He's ready now.”

“Can I see him?” Lupin asked. He wasn't sure why he asked. He wasn't sure of anything any more.

“Of course.”

Goemon had done a good job. There was no blood in evidence. No bullet holes that Lupin could see; the wound covered in fresh linen.

Jigen was laid out on the made-up bed, wearing a clean suit. An older one, one of his favorites. A good choice. His eyes – thankfully – Goemon had been able to close his eyes. There was a slight crease to his forehead, and his mouth was turned down slightly. But he looked at rest. He looked peaceful, almost, just like he did went he fell asleep on the couch.

His tie was just a little askew. Even with all the complicated knots on his traditional clothing, Goemon still couldn't tie a tie. Goemon thought of how whenever he had needed one for a disguise, Jigen had been the one to tie it for him. That would never happen again.

His hands were folded on his chest, and his fedora was placed over them.

Lupin reached out to push a bit hair away from the gunman's face, but stopped halfway. Couldn't bring himself to touch him.

“Don't go in the bathroom,” Goemon warned.

“I won't.”

The three of them stood at the bedside, starring at the one member of their gang who would never leave this country again.

“He hated it here,” Lupin said, his voice flat, tears leaking, but he didn't care, didn't wipe them away. “It's so cold all the time. I hate to leave him here.”

“No choice,” the swordsman answered.

“I know.”

Fujiko hadn't said anything since she had heard what happened. But she did slip her hand into Lupin's, stood closer to him.

Lupin cleared his throat a few times, tried to get the knot to go away. It wouldn't. “So. Do we have a shovel?”

Lupin worked all the rest of that terrible night, refusing any help – this was something he had to do on his own – and by first light he had dug a hole of sufficient size and depth.

Goemon reached down to help the thief climb out.

By then, the body was stiff. He kept thinking of it as a body, the body. Not Jigen. Not his partner in crime, his bodyguard, his friend. Not the man he would never share another drink with, or laugh with, or throw a punch at ever again. Just a body, the body, something to dispose of.

Lupin gingerly placed the fedora on the nightstand. He would not be putting that keepsake in the ground.

“Where's his Magnum?”

They couldn't find it. He must have dropped it when – Lupin couldn't think about that now. Couldn't bear to relive it again. He'd think about it later.

So that was how it was. He would be buried alone, in this place he hated, without the two things that had defined his existence.

They wrapped it in a blanket. It was the best they could do. There was no time. It was all they had. They knew he would understand, that he would have done the same.

Carefully, very carefully, they lowered it into the ground. Lupin's hands were blistered and raw. The shovel was the only thing holding him upright.

There was a terrible finality in replacing the earth, and Lupin paused.

But only for a moment. He could almost hear his gunman laughing, “Get on with it. I'm not going to get any deader.”

Nothing would ever be the same. There was nothing. It was all gone now. Lupin wanted to crawl into the hole himself. Just lie down and give up. But Goemon stood solid beside him, a hand on his shoulder. And Fujiko was near by, sniffling. She had never like Jigen, but felt his loss as keenly as any of the others. Lupin was determined to be strong for their sake.

They let another moment pass, the sun rising slowly, shedding light on their emptiness. Finally, Lupin began to slowly fill the grave.

The noise of it – the soft thud of the soil – was an excruciating sound, so quiet, and yet somehow filling his ears and mind to capacity.

After a bit, he fell into a rhythm and it went faster. When it was done, he nodded to the samurai and Goemon split a nearby boulder with his sword so that half of it fell over and completely covered the plot. No one would know he was here. No one would know, except for them.

“We should say something,” the gentleman thief whispered, his voice cold.

“Like what?” Goemon asked.

“I don't know. Something. He deserves something. We can't send him off and not say anything.”

They all just stared at the rock that would serve as his marker. No one knew what to say.

Fujiko stepped forward. “He was a crack shot.” It wasn't much, but it was all she could think of. And it was true.

“A great card player,” Goemon remembered.

“A lousy chess player,” Lupin almost half-smiled through tears.

“A hard drinker,” Fujiko added.

“Loyal,” the samurai offered.

“A gentleman,” Lupin said. “A true gentleman.”

They all nodded. It wasn't much of a eulogy, but the best they could do.

Jigen may have been a violent criminal, but he did have manners. Fujiko thought of how he would open the car door for - “Lupin,” she grabbed his arm, “the mouse.”

“She doesn't know yet. That was the last thing he said to me – that she should know.”

“Send another letter?” Goemon suggested.

Lupin looked offended. “This isn't something you put on paper.”

“How then?”

“I don't know. I'll find a way.”

Lupin sat alone cuffed to an interrogation table in some dim underground room. He had tried to pull a job alone. It was too soon and he shouldn't have tried it without backup.

The door opened and Inspector Zenigata stood in the doorway, followed by another officer. The stranger said, “The samurai was spotted in Lima not an hour ago.”

“Hmm. And Fujiko?”

“Still in Nice.”

Lupin was glad to hear his friends were ok. He hadn't seen them since – well, he wouldn't call it a funeral exactly. But he hadn't seen them since then.

He had had a bit of a breakdown after they had first parted ways. It was days before he could bring himself to even leave his bed. Once he was able to rouse himself, he had not stopped running.

He drank, he gambled, he caroused. He took risks that he never would have considered had Jigen been there to talk him out of it. He picked bar fights in seedy establishments with goons twice his size. So stupid and reckless since Jigen wasn't around to bail him out or patch him up. His nose was a bit off center from his last encounter, and he doubted he would get it fixed.

But now his frantic distraction had come to a searing halt. And when he was still, he was quiet, and when he was quiet he was forced to think.

“Ok,” Zenigata said. “Any word yet on the whereabouts of Jigen Daisuke?”

“Not yet.”

“Keep looking. He's bound to turn up. Out of the three of them, he's the one most likely to try and pull some sort of jail break.”

“We'll stay on it.”

“Keep me informed.”

“Yes, sir.” The officer left, and Pops made his way into the room, elbowing the door closed behind him.

He set a cup of coffee in front of Lupin, and pulled out the chair across from him. Zenigata took his time, shrugged out of his suit coat, rolled up his shirt sleeves, laid his hat on the corner of the table. The sight of it was like a fist in the gut. It was just like Jigen's. Only a different color.

“There's no need,” Lupin whispered.

“What's that?”

“No need.”

“No need for what, Lupin?”

Lupin cleared his throat again, but it didn't help. “No need to keep an eye out for Jigen. He won't be coming.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

“He's gone,” the words tore from Lupin's throat dragging with them a choked sob.

Zenigata crossed his arms, leaned back in the wooden chair. “Gone? Gone where? Hard to believe the greatest criminal duo has split up. You two were thick as thieves. Pardon the expression.”

Lupin half-smiled, sadly, before his face crumpled. “We were. We were thick as thieves.” He moved to put his elbows on the table, bury his face in his hands, but the cuffs were too short so he just hung his head a little lower.

“Lupin?”

The thief did not answer.

“Lupin?” Zenigata sat up a little straighter now.

“He's dead.”

Zenigata was understandably skeptical. This was not the first time one or the other of the gang had faked their death to get an enemy to drop their guard. “Lupin, where is Jigen?”

“I told you. He's gone. Dead. Dead and gone. In the cold, hard, freaking ground. And I'll never see him again. And it's all my fault. I got greedy. Went after something I shouldn't have. He told me to leave it. It was too dangerous. And he was right. He was always right. About everything. And now. Now. Oh. Oh, Pops! Jigen. Jigen is dead. I killed him.”

The grief and the guilt had finally caught up to him – he couldn't outrun them here – and Lupin cried. Wept hard and ugly. Pops just stared at him, but he didn't even care. It was like the inspector wasn't even there.

Zenigata had never seen Lupin so overwrought. Lupin who was always in control. Lupin who didn't sweat diffusing a bomb. Lupin who could bluff an MI6 agent with a gun at his temple. Lupin who was always at ease around anyone, even on a crashing plane or sinking ship. Now he sat across the table a heaving, blubbering mess, and it unnerved the inspector.

“How long ago?”

Lupin told the story. It was the first time he had really thought about it enough to share details. The eyes were what bothered him the most. Those blank, soulless eyes.

He wiped his face on his colorful jacket sleeve, breathed deep, tried to get a hold on himself. He drank some of the coffee, which by now had cooled considerably.

“He had a woman.”

Zenigata wanted to laugh, but didn't. “Jigen? When did he find the time?”

“It was complicated.” After a minute he added, “She still doesn't know.”

“Oh?”

“It was the last thing he said to me. That she should know.”

Zenigata stared at his rival, waiting.

“Pops. Tell her for me.”

“How am I supposed to do that? Do you even know who she is?”

“I have a name. But it's a common one.”

“Anything else?”

“A motel they stayed at.”

“Not much to go on.”

“Are you an investigator for Interpol or not?”

A week after Lupin had escaped – again – Zenigata opened his car door to find a familiar fedora on the seat. There was a note tucked inside – one of Lupin's calling cards. All it said was: _She should have this_.

Zenigata knew what it meant. It would not be an easy task. And why should he waste energy and resources trying to locate one person out of the entire world's population? He didn't owe anything to Lupin or any other member of his gang for that matter.

But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that if the roles were reversed, he would want someone to tell his people.

He imagined his daughter, watching the road for him, or waiting for him to call, or staring at an empty chair on holidays and the thought was almost too much to bear.

So he would find her. For Lupin's sake. For Jigen's. For his own.

That particular quest was put on hold as the ICPO was called to deal with an international terrorist organization carrying out coordinated simultaneous attacks on multiple continents. It was all hands on deck for several weeks, a few months really, until they finally got the situation under control.

By then summer had passed into fall, and several other cases, including Lupin's had crossed his desk and occupied his attention.

But he had not forgotten, and in his off hours he worked to find her.

He was surprised when he finally did. He wasn't sure what he had expected, but not someone like her. Soft spoken, genteel, lovely.

When she opened her door, his breath just left him, and he stared for longer than was appropiate.

He asked to come in, eventually was able to tell her what had happened and when.

She had cried and he had instinctively wanted to hold her. Give her his shoulder and provide a steady anchor against which to weather her storm. A widow twice over she was now. Although Zenigata wasn't sure if Jigen had ever actually married. But she grieved like a widow. Her pain was real, and heart-wrenching to witness.

But he stayed on the couch, a good distance between them. They were strangers, and he would not be the one to cross any line.

He had stayed with her a good while, and they had talked of the gunman, and Lupin, and his work with the ICPO.

He lingered. Probably longer than necessary, but he justified it by saying she had asked him to stay.

He gave her the hat before he left, and when she asked him to come back – for tea she said – he had debated whether or not such a thing would be proper.

He finally decided it didn't matter. He would take the risk and see where it led.

After all, life was short – he wasn't getting any younger – and here was a beautiful woman asking to spend time with him. To get to know him better. Such an opportunity should not be passed up.

His fingers brushed hers when he handed over his business card. He would tell Lupin the next time they crossed paths, and hopefully, knowing Jigen's final wish had been fulfilled would bring the thief some measure of peace.

As he drove away, his windshield wipers kicking away the sleet, he wondered how long it would be before he heard from her.

He chuckled when his phone buzzed before he had even left her driveway.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments welcome! 
> 
> Also, if you need something to help you recover from this might I suggest Jigen's Halloween or Loves Wears A Fedora. Those are much lighter/more fun.


End file.
